


That's a Thief Plotting

by owls4ever



Series: Picking up the Pieces [1]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, POV Nox Owen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28314906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owls4ever/pseuds/owls4ever
Summary: Nox hasn't met Celaena since the day he slipped out of Rifthold. Now they're both here, in Orynth, and maybe it's time to rectify that. It's time for a thief to start plotting a reunion.
Series: Picking up the Pieces [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077755
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	That's a Thief Plotting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ango_Isqua](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ango_Isqua/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, darling! I do hope this turns out to be all that you were hoping for.
> 
> Marry Christmas to anyone else who celebrates. I hope you find this well worth the read and happy holidays!

Nox Owen would not say he has been having a particularly good week. To be honest, he hasn’t had a good week for months now.

First there was the war, which was not the most fun Nox has ever had. Darrow still blames him for jumping to not-Celaena’s side and abandoning him. Not-Celaena turned out to be, well, not Celaena.

Nox has hoped for a dramatic reunion between himself and the assassin ever since he slipped from the castle in Rifthold. When he saw who he thought was Celaena, he had hoped he might have gotten his reunion. But the shifter hadn’t known him, and he hasn’t gotten to talk to Celaena since the war ended. 

She’s been too busy making formal agreements and alliances, getting crowned, and establishing herself as Queen of Terrasen. And honestly, Nox is a little scared Celaena won’t recognize him. Clearly he didn’t make enough of an impression to tell her friends about, even when they were told about all the other little parts of her history. If she couldn’t even bother to tell the shifter about him, what hope does he actually have that she’ll remember him?

He can’t really blame her if she’s forgotten him. He played a small, transient part in her life; she knew him for no more than a few months. Yeah, sure, she saved his life and he thought of her as a friend, but he isn’t so sure _she_ thought of _him_ as a friend.

If he is going to get a reunion, he needs to take matters into his own hands. So he starts to plan. He’ll have to walk a very careful line: exciting enough to amuse the Queen of Plots herself, but not so exciting her jittery bodyguards will get the wrong idea. Plus, he needs to figure out a way to determine if Celaena even remembers him at all. After all, a reunion isn’t all that useful if only one of two parties remembers.

\---

The first step is to make sure not-Celaena hasn’t already told real-Celaena about him. If he wants it to be a surprise, not-Celaena can’t have already spoiled it. He’s fairly certain not-Celaena is the only one who knows both a) he’s in town and b) he knows Celaena.

Nox heads off to find her. She is tucked away in an alcove with a male who looks remarkably like-- _Oh, right, the general is Celaena’s cousin_ , he remembers suddenly. He’d think the fact that he is literally wandering Celaena’s palace halls, in _Orynth_ , of all places, would drive home the fact that she isn’t quite who he became friends with.

“Can I help you?” not-Celaena asks as the general slips away.

“Yes, actually.” Nox smiles his most charming grin, dredging up his old charisma from years evading and sweet-talking Perranth guards. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Nox Owen.”

Not-Celaena nods. “I believe we met under a different guise, but yes. I’m Lysandra,” she says, offering her hand to shake.

“Well, Lysandra, I was wondering if you could help me,” Nox begins. _Probably a good idea to remember she has a name_ , he berates himself silently. “The queen and I were friends a long time ago, when she wasn’t Aelin yet. I wanted to… reintroduce myself, I suppose.”

Lysandra raises an eyebrow and narrows her eyes. “You met her as Celaena Sardothien.” 

It isn’t a question, but Nox nods anyway. If he wants her help, he’s probably better off playing nice.

“Before or after Endovier?”

Nox swallows. “After. During the king’s competition.”

Understanding dawns, and she nods. “Well, then, what do you need from me?”

“I was wondering whether you've mentioned I am here, in Orynth,” he says carefully.

She shakes her head. “Nope, sorry. Everything’s been happening so fast. I haven’t really had the chance to bring you up.”

Nox isn’t stupid. He knows what the lady isn’t saying: _and I completely forgot about you_. “Oh, no, that’s quite all right. I, uh, I wanted to surprise her, actually,” he replies.

“Oh! Well, good luck with that. She isn’t exactly easy to surprise.”

“I know.” Nox shakes his head. “She always knew everything that was going on during the competition. And when she didn’t, none of us had any clue, either.”

Lysandra cocks her head. “Yeah, I’m helping you,” she announces. “And I think there’s one other person we should rope into this.”

“Who?” Nox asks, following as Lysandra starts marching down the hall.

“Oh, you’ll see,” the lady responds.

\---

Turns out they’re meeting someone named Ansel, Queen of the Western Wastes.

“So. I met her in the Red Desert. You met her in Rifthold?”

“Yes. During the king’s competition.”

Ansel whirls. “Wait. You were in the competition?”

“Yes…?”

“And you’re still alive? And free? Gods, I thought everyone either died or got shipped back to whatever hellhole they started in,” Ansel mutters, starting to pace across the carpet.

“Minister Joval granted me immunity.” Nox shrugs and adds, “Celaena saved my life in one of the Tests. And then she convinced me to leave while I still could and flee back to Terrasen.”

Lysandra leans in. “Ansel, we need your help to orchestrate a reunion.”

Ansel cocks her head and gives him an assessing look. She nods decisively. “All right. What’s the plan?”

“I haven’t quite gotten there yet, but I do have a few ideas,” Nox jumps in. Lysandra and Ansel look unimpressed, and he sighs. “Look, I know I need to find something that will remind her of me without coming right out and announcing myself. So I have a start. But not a really a _plan_. Not yet.”

Nox lays out what he has so far. Ansel and Lysandra share a look. “We can work with that,” Ansel says, shrugging, but still smirking slightly.

\---

The first step is to acquire the perfect reminder. The problem is that almost everyone and everything he and Celaena interacted with is either dead or carried bad memories. But he thinks he has a solution. If Aelin remembers the climbing test, he’s pretty sure she’ll know it’s him.

He spends a day roaming the streets of Orynth before he finds what he’s looking for: a stonemason’s. He goes in and explains what he’s looking for.

“Are you sure?” the mason asks, looking skeptical. “That’s kind of a strange request…”

“But you can do it?”

Their chest puffs up. “Of course I can do it! It should be done in a week or so.”

“Excellent. Thank you so much.”

When he gets back to the castle, he meets up with Ansel and Lysandra.

“Rope is under way,” Lysandra reports.

“Tar is acquired and at maximum stickiness,” Ansel declares, brandishing a large tin of tar.

“Gargoyle is commissioned. Should be about a week,” Nox adds, leaning back against the wall. “When everything’s ready, who will carry out the next step?”

“I will,” Lysandra volunteers, stepping forward. “No one’ll recognize me.” Nox and Ansel watch as she starts to shift, her hair sprouting into a curly black mop, her skin darkening a few shades, her eyes shifting to deep brown, her shoulders widening and arms lengthening, her chest flattening, and her legs bowing. “See?” Her voice comes out two octaves lower. “No one will recognize me, and I’ll wear a cloak, just in case.”

“All right,” Nox concedes. He can’t quite keep the wonder out of his voice. He had known she was a shifter, but he hadn’t seen her shift like this before. He wonders idly, _How far do her powers go? Is she full-powered? The kind of thief she could make…_

“And you’re writing a letter?” Ansel asks, cutting off his mental train of thought.

“Oh. Yes. I’ll write it, and when everything is done we get a messenger to deliver it to the queen.”

“During court. Anyone is welcome,” Lysandra adds.

“Where will you be?” Ansel asks, looking at Nox suspiciously.

“There are a few good vantage points in the throne room.” Nox waves his hand. “Don’t worry, that’s taken care of. I’ll watch discreetly, and we’ll see if Celaena remembers me.”

Lysandra and Ansel suddenly start cackling. “What?” Nox asks defensively.

“Your face. It’s the exact same face Aelin makes,” Lysandra explains.

Ansel gestures at his face. “That? That’s the look of an assassin -- or in your case a thief -- plotting. We’ve seen it on Aelin often enough.”

Nox sketches a bow. “To be compared to Her Illustrious Majesty is simply beyond my comprehension. I am honored beyond words to be considered alike her in any way.” He grins at the shifter and the queen. “Let’s pull this off, shall we?”

\---

A week later the stonemason is done. Nox writes the accompanying letter and sends it off with Lysandra. She -- while disguised -- will pay a messenger to deliver it during the next court day. Lysandra and Ansel will attend in full view. Nox will wait in his hideyhole until he knows the queen remembers him. All going well, he’ll make his dramatic entrance and that will be that.

Lysandra reports back that the messenger has taken the package and letter, although only after assurances there is nothing dangerous inside and a quick peek at the package’s contents. Apparently, he had given her a very confused look, but had agreed when he saw the size of the purse she had to offer.

Ansel reports that there is one more court day before she is scheduled to return to the Wastes, which works out well. She’ll be able to see everything fall into place -- assuming all proceeds as expected -- and then she’ll go home. She also reports that there is nothing exciting scheduled for that particular court day. There won’t be any big events to take away Celaena’s attention.

Nox secures his hiding place. It’s set up is similar to a hunting blind. It has a narrow slit to see out of, so it will be difficult for Celaena’s various Fae bodyguards to see any movement. It’s lined in soundproofing fabric and cushions so it will be harder to hear any movement, breath, or heartbeats. Plus, the room will be full enough that his signature should be disguised. Scentwise it is similar as well. He’s scattered fruits and berries and perfumes across it so his scent will be disguised. He’ll slip in a little after court itself starts, and that way his scent will get lost. He can use the strangers of the room to disguise his own strangeness.

The crowning glory is the trapdoor in the bottom.

The worst thing that could happen is if Celaena’s bodyguards don’t wait it out long enough and think it’s a plot against their queen. He has no doubts he will be dead before he can blink if they decide he is a threat.

But it’s a risk he must take. All or nothing was always Celaena’s belief; she had hated the Captain telling her to stay in the middle of the pack and let everyone underestimate her.

But this plan? Well, this plan is either going to be a fantastic success and will amuse the queen… or Nox will die in the attempt.

\---

The day of court dawns bright and clear. The messenger is scheduled as the fourth person on today’s docket. That gives Nox time to slip into his hide in the rafters without attracting notice. Sure enough, the Fae gathered around the queen don’t notice his entrance. One does glance up at the ceiling and squint, but then he shrugs and returns to looking at the rest of the room.

“A parcel for Her Majesty Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius!” the crier announces.

Celaena’s eyebrows rise and she stands up.

“Your Majesty, I have a letter to read as well, if I may,” the messenger says, looking terrified.

Celaena glances around. Nox, from above, can see that everyone looks confused… except Lysandra and Ansel, who have matching evil grins. Celaena notices too, of course.

“Lysandra? Ansel? What are you two up to?” she asks suspiciously, stepping toward them.

“Oh nothing,” Lysandra says, fluttering a dramatic hand against her chest. “But a parcel? And a letter? How exciting! I should pay attention in court more often!”

Ansel snickers beside her and adds, “If my court were this fun, I would never leave the Wastes.”

Celaena grumbles something and waves her hand. “Go ahead. Read the letter,” she orders.

“Right. Um,” the messenger mumbles. He unfolds the letter and starts reading.

 _“My dearest Lillian. How long has it been since we saw each other last! I never got to say goodbye when I slipped out in the night so many years ago. I must thank you, you taught me things I never would have learned elsewhere. You have truly touched my life and changed the course of my journey forever. Please accept this humble reminder of the day you saved my life [open package here]…_ ”

The messenger trails off and blushes. “Er, oops, sorry. Um.” He opens the package, as directed.

It is really less of a package and more of a wooden pallet, but the messenger pries it open to reveal a crouched gargoyle snarling at the queen. Tied around its horns is a long piece of rope, the other end of which is tied to the jar of tar.

Nox can hear various people murmuring, sounding confused. But he watches as Celaena’s eyes widen. She takes in the gargoyle, as near a replica to the one she used to save him as he could remember. Its tightly curled horns and bulging eyes. Its bared teeth and scrunched nose. Its thick forelegs ending in three bird toes to each foot. Its hindquarters, squat and square. The thing looks ready to leap into action at any moment.

“Is there more? To the letter?” Celaena finally asks.

“Er, yes, Your Majesty.” The messenger starts reading again.

“ _I thanked you for saving my life then, but you brushed it off. I never managed to thank you for convincing me to leave. Please accept my deepest gratitude for everything you have done. You were an amazing friend, an awe-inspiring Champion, and a terrifying assassin. The only thing you truly failed at was convincing everyone you were a ditzy jewel thief. You have already proven you are a truly majestic queen, and I have no doubt you will continue as such. I am so glad I had the chance to meet you and befriend you, even if only for a short time._ ”

The messenger looks up. “That’s where it ends, Your Majesty.”

Celaena frowns. “He didn’t sign it?”

“No, Your Majesty. The person who gave me the package said,” he clears his throat and drops his voice a little, “‘If she doesn’t know who it’s from there’s no point adding in my signature.’”

“I suppose he’s right. Of course I remember you, Nox Owen, Master Thief of Perranth,” she calls out to the room. The silver-haired Fae next to her gives her a worried look. She hisses something at him, and he shrugs. 

_This is my moment_ , Nox decides.

He flips open the trapdoor and swings. He is very pleased to see that he has, in fact, judged everything right, and he lands square on the gargoyle’s head. Which hurts a little, but he’s running high on adrenaline, so he doesn’t really notice.

“Nox!” Celaena squeals. She runs forward and gives him a massive hug. “What happened? Where have you been since the competition? Why didn’t you come find me sooner? Where did you get this? Oh gods, please say you didn’t actually _steal_ a _gargoyle_ from Rifthold. Dorian will be so mad.”

Nox laughs. “I promise I didn’t steal it. There’s actually a wonderful stonemason in the city, name of Onere. They did the gargoyle.”

“Well then,” the queen says, standing back to survey it. “They did a wonderful job, I’ll have to go see them at some point. But _this_ is going on one of the walls.”

The bodyguard with blond hair and dark eyes splutters from behind her. “Aelin, you don’t have any other gargoyles. It’ll be a lonely-ass gargoyle all by itself. And it’s ugly! Why stick it on your pretty castle?”

“Hush up, Fenrys,” she says, grinning. “It’s going outside Lorcan’s room!”

“Oh, well, that changes everything,” The blond Fae says, elbowing the dark-haired Fae beside him. He gets a glower in return.

Celaena turns back to him. “Welcome to my court, Nox. We absolutely have to catch up. But we’ll have to wait until this is done for the day.”

Nox smiles. “Done. Plus I told the kitchens to bake you a chocolate cake.”

Celaena grins. “I knew you were my favorite for a reason!”

\---

After Celaena declares court is over, Nox, Celaena, Ansel, and Lysandra make their way to a sitting room. The promised cake is already set out and waiting.

“I can’t believe you were in on this and didn’t tell me!” the queen declares after she’s eaten half the cake.

“But it was so exciting,” Ansel wheedles. “You always keep secrets from us, we just wanted to return the favor.”

Lysandra snorts. “Plus I already knew he was floating around,” she adds. “He was the only person, other than Aedion, who knew I wasn’t you while we were in the camps.”

“She didn’t remember me at all, even after I’d been introduced. I chose to believe Celaena would remember me. Ergo, she must not be Celaena.”

“Ha. And I did remember.” Celaena salutes him with a piece of cake. “So. What have you been up to this whole time? It’s been, what, two, three years?”

“Yeah, something like.” He shrugs. “After I left, Joval brought me back to Perranth. Set me loose, told me to enjoy my life. I started digging, tried to see what had happened to the Perranth underworld.” He sighs. “Turns out my second, Nagira, had taken over. Told me flat out I wasn’t wanted and she’d dispose of me if I threatened her. So I left Perranth, came to Orynth.”

He looks out the window. “I roamed the streets a little, working as a petty criminal or a thief here and there. Then the Bane started recruiting, and I got drawn in. But Darrow saw me, decided I’d be useless as a soldier and hired me as his personal messenger. When Darrow and Lysandra-as-you started clashing, he sent me to intervene. I figured out she wasn’t you pretty early on. Then I flipped sides and started helping her, not Darrow.”

“I’m sure you can guess what Darrow thought,” Nox continues. “He was furious, declared I’d never work again if he could help it, and shipped me out of the castle. Then Evangeline started mellowing his withered heart and he got nicer. Came and found me one day, apologized, said he wasn’t in charge anymore. The lords had agreed to make you queen. I came back to the castle, started plotting how to make you aware of my presence.”

“Mm. Well, thank you. It made for quite the exciting day in court, and now I have a new gargoyle!” she gives a little cheer before sobering up. “What will you do now, though?”

“Now? I don’t know,” Nox responds. “I’m not really good at any kind of honest trade, and I kind of want to explore. I hadn’t even left Perranth until the competition, and I don’t want to remain in one place for the rest of my life.”

“Hmm…” Celaena taps her chin. After a moment, her eyes brighten. “Ansel. How useful would a Champion be for you?”

Ansel shrugs. “I still have to negotiate with the witches over who gets what portion of the territory. And I’m still facing some unrest from some of my people who think they would be a better leader. So, really, anything I can do to project strength will help.”

“Nox. How would you like to see the Wastes?”

“Like I said, I want to travel, see all sorts of places and peoples.”

“All right. Here is my solution.” Celaena looks around at each of them. “Nox goes with Ansel back to the Wastes as her Champion. Every so often both of you come back to visit. Nox gets to see more of the world, Ansel looks stronger, and I still get to see you both.”

“That works for me,” Ansel says, shrugging.

Nox nods. “That works for me as well.”

Celaena claps her hands. “Excellent! Tonight though, we’re having a party. I can’t let you leave without a dance and fancy clothes!” Lysandra gives her an unimpressed look. Celaena deflates a little. “Okay, so I might have already planned a party for tonight, but it doesn’t matter. It works out quite well. You’ll come to the party, we’ll have a wonderful time, and then we’ll send you off while we’re all too hungover to think straight!”

\---

As promised, Nox is dragged along to the party that night. Earlier, Celaena had ordered him, on pain of death and humiliation, to wear a nice tunic and pants. Normally, he wouldn’t have bothered fighting. He’s always liked to dress nice and pretend to be a pedigreed noble or other fancy-ass schmuck who doesn’t know how the world really works. Tonight he had lodged a token protest, but is glad he ultimately listened. 

The queen is in a deep red number that goes beautifully with her hair. The silver-haired male, whom she had introduced as Rowan, her mate and consort, is in a matching burnished gold outfit. It should look tacky on him, but somehow it works. Everyone else is in all sort of shades. Most are jewel tones, especially in the dresses, but some people are all in grayscale. The textures very widely, too, from sequins to ruffles to fringe to lace. Nox had managed to find a tunic/pants combo of deep, Terrasen forest green with silver threading. He’s pleased to see he fits in quite well with both the jeweled peacocks and dolled-up foxes littering Celaena’s court.

Nox spends the night twirling and whirling, drinking and eating, laughing and chatting until he’s about to fall over. And then, of course, since it is Celaena’s party, it goes on for another hour. Finally, guests start to trickle out, and Nox collapses into bed.

When he wakes, it will be the start of a new life and new horizons. How fitting that the turning point is his reunion with Celaena.


End file.
